Malice Aforethought

Chapter 2
Arrival

The customs officer flipping through my passport was a thin black man who had surely done this thousands of times before. I couldn’t imagine how boring his job had to be. I hoped his computer wasn’t telling him that I’d just booked this flight only two days earlier. That could cause some uncomfortable questions.

He looked at the photo page, then back up at me. “Why are you coming to South Africa?” he asked, his English clear but accent strong. He was probably a native Xhosa speaker, or Zulu.

“Just for a holiday,” I said with a smile, trying to seem at ease. Did I try too hard? Did I come off as fake?

He eyed me carefully. “You travel a lot,” he said, a statement, not a question. He’d seen my nearly full passport.

I nodded amicably. “Yeah, I get around.”

He stared at me hard for several seconds. He had to know something was wrong here. He sensed something was suspicious.

“Enjoy your holiday,” he said, smashing his stamp into the ink and onto the passport before handing it back to me.

“Cheers,” I replied, snapping it up and hurrying on as fast as I could.

O.R. Tambo airport was deceptively calm and secure, just as I remembered it. Nothing there reminded the new arrivals they were now in Africa, not Europe or America. Nothing warned them of the dangers lurking just beyond the smoothly sliding doors. Because beyond those doors was Johannesburg, one of the wealthiest, and most dangerous cities in the world. If the taxi drivers didn’t rob you it would be people in fake police uniforms and cars. And if they didn’t get you either it would be the real police, which could be even worse. That was why I always rented a car.

It was a typical Joburg summer day. The sun was shining, the mercury was climbing and the traffic on the M2 was mad. The sparkling towers of downtown Joburg glittered in the sunlight to my right. A little to the east was a different set of tower blocks which I immediately recognised as Hillbrow, supposedly Africa’s most dangerous slum and one area I knew to stay well away from even in the middle of the day. That was why I stuck to the main highways until I reached the safer northern suburbs. It was there, on their leafy streets lined by houses that looked more like mini-compounds, that Elly had directed me to go.

Getting to the house had been the easy part. Yes it took money and time, but it was pretty straight-forward. The problem would be what happened once I went in. I sat parked on the street outside the address Elly had given me, pondering whether or not to go in. Of course I had no intention of sticking around for several days, giving her a chance to fuck with my mind. I was only going in there to get those photos back, one way or another. Unfortunately I didn’t have any real weapons, but I was bigger than her and I wasn’t above using the threat of violence to solve this problem.

I couldn’t just barge in though. Her house was very secure with its wall topped by coiled razor-wire and electric fencing, the driveway blocked by a gate. I also had no way of knowing if she was armed herself, or had some security guards. Like pretty much every house in this country there was a sign on her gate that declared “ADT Security: Armed Response” in threateningly large letters. A tap of the panic button and the local rent-a-cops, far more reliable than actual cops, would be racing up the driveway armed with fully automatic weapons. That being the case I decided it was best to watch the house for a bit, get the feel of the place. So I moved my car to the opposite side of the street and parked a couple houses down. I had binoculars to get a closer look and plenty of snack food to keep me going.

I had been sitting there in my rental car for three hours and was beginning to think I couldn’t take the waiting anymore when something finally happened. The front door of the house opened. I couldn’t see anything else over the wall but that was what I’d been waiting for. The door stayed open for a full minute. When it closed again I was left to wonder if whether she’d simply gone inside or if she and the ‘kids’ were playing in the yard. Could I risk a slow drive past the driveway gate so I could have a look?

As I considered my options the point became moot anyway. The gate began to slide open. She was coming out after all. I slumped down in my seat, ready to hide myself completely if she came my direction. A mini-van nosed out of the driveway, pulling out far enough to let the gate close behind it. As it sat there I could make out four occupants. Did that mean she did have a body guard, or a partner in crime riding in the front with her?

The gate closed and the minivan pulled forward, turning away from me and heading up the street. I sat up and jammed down the clutch, starting the car as quickly as I could. The car let off alarming sounds to warn me the hand brake was still on and my seatbelt was undone, such was my hurry. I couldn’t follow too close, but I also didn’t want to lose her. My heart was skipping beats now. I felt like I was in a spy movie of some sort. But the consequences of screwing up were all too real.

She drove slowly, like a mother with her kids in the car would be expected to. It wasn’t hard to keep up, it was harder to keep far enough back so as not to be spotted. I couldn’t really get close enough to make out just who was in the car. It was only when she turned into the large covered car park of a mall that I began to get my hopes up.

I followed her into the car park, still trying to keep a little distance, hoping she hadn’t already made me. When she turned down one row I proceeded to the next and turned down it. I was playing a dangerous game now. If she found no spots and went around the next row she’d be coming straight past me and she knew what I looked like. The car park was very full but halfway down the row I saw her indicating left and then pulling into an open park. I accelerated to the same part of my row then stopped and indicated right, as though waiting for someone to pull out. I stopped my car so I could see hers through the space between two parked cars on my left.

A moment passed then her door opened. Elly was a pretty woman, about five-foot five, skinny, unthreatening in appearance. She was wearing a white halter-top and short blue shorts today, showing off her body but not too dressy for a mall run. She went around to the back while the other occupants remained in the car. I could see she was unloading something big from the boot. She worked on it for a moment, then closed the boot. She came back to the side of the car and I could see what she’d been assembling. It was a pushchair, a stroller for a small child. Except that it clearly wasn’t for a little kid at all. It was obvious that it was too big for that.

She opened the back door and unbuckled the child within. A second later Eric emerged from the car, holding Elly’s hand as he hopped out onto the pavement. At least he looked happy, like he was really enjoying his reduction to toddlerhood. The young man wore a set of navy bib shortalls, made of corduroy or denim I couldn’t tell. He wore a yellow t-shirt under them with some sort of cartoon motif I couldn’t make out. The legs of his shortalls stopped just below his knees and his legs and bare feet were clearly smooth and hairless. Yet he was smiling, beaming in fact. He seemed perfectly pleased to be led over to the big pushchair and helped into it. He sat there sucking his thumb while Elly strapped him into the contraption and then handed him a sippy-cup of juice which he proceeded to drink using both hands.

The doors on the other side of the car now opened and Elly beckoned their occupants to join her and Eric. Two more young men appeared beside her. But neither of them appeared to be a bodyguard or co-conspirator. One of them was a blonde young fellow about the same size and build as Eric. He wore a black Batman t-shirt and baggy grey board shorts. His lack of any footwear and his mannerisms told me he was not Elly’s equal, he too was a child now. The other fellow was a bit taller and better built. I could see his arms were muscular and his shoulders broad. His dark hair was buzz-cut in a military style. Yes he looked like the kind of man Elly would keep around as an enforcer, a protector. But his clothing told me immediately that he was no such thing. He wore a bright yellow SpongeBob Square-pants t-shirt and some very baggy jean shorts. More importantly he, like the other two ‘boys,’ was barefoot.

More than anything this highlighted to me that what was going on here was no act, no game being played by Eric. Watching him sitting there in that big stroller in that silly outfit, grabbing at his dirty feet and playing with his toes, I knew that he was not acting. He didn’t know I was there, couldn’t be dressed up as a show for me. This was his life now. He really had been somehow reduced to the simple mentality of a toddler. And it was clear that he wasn’t alone in that. Elly had mentioned another boy, Benny she’d called him. But who was the third young man?

**

A big part of me had wanted to follow them into the mall and see how people reacted to the three oversized children. But that would have accomplished nothing. I couldn’t confront her in the mall. I had to do it face to face in her home, where she’d have access to the incriminating photos. But first I needed to know the lay-out of the house and more importantly, whether anyone else was home. So while they did their shopping I hurried back to the house, parked well up the street, donned a baseball cap and sunglasses and headed carefully up the footpath to the gate.

There was a call button beside the driveway. I hit it and waited. There was no reply. I tried again, and then a third time with the same result. It appeared there really was no one else at home. I looked around the street to see if I was alone. There was no sign of pedestrians, no cars passing by in this quiet residential area. It was time to take action. Over my arm I carried a thick blanket. When I was sure no one was watching I unfolded it and threw it up over the top of the wall, covering the electric fencing and razor wires. Then I pulled myself up and rolled over the top, landing smoothly in the yard.

It looked like little kids lived here alright. The bikes converted into tricycles, the trampoline, the kiddy pool and super soakers in the lawn. I made a quick circuit of the house, peaking into every window to spot the computers. Then I did the most important thing, I found a thick bush along the wall and chose there to climb back over to the street. But rather than take the blanket with me I carefully picked it up off the wires and let it drop down the other side, landing safely behind the cover of the bush. Now my emergency escape route was secure.